Father
by PrincessFabala
Summary: Quick little oneshot about the scene between Jaime and Myrcella in S5 Ep10 from his POV. If you haven't watched it yet then don't read this. Bad summary and title. Sorry. (Now with an alternate, somewhat happier ending that I may continue.)
1. Chapter 1

**A/N Sweet little oneshot from Jaime's POV when he tells Myrcella that he's her father. Rated T for some sex references but nothing explicit.**

 **Disclaimer: No. Game of Thrones isn't mine.**

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Jaime looked at his niece. His daughter. All her life she'd known him as Uncle. All her life he'd been forced to deny her. To deny who she was. To protect her, and her brothers. To protect Cersei. To protect himself. All his life, he'd had to deny the rumours, forbidden to express how he felt about his twin sister. Nearly every day he was reminded how wrong it was for him to love his twin sister. Every time he saw the common people he was reminded. Ridiculed. But they didn't understand. He never chose to love her. No-one chose who they loved.

Kingslayer, they called him. Oathbreaker. A man without honour. He wore those words like armour, protecting himself from their words. They didn't understand that he'd saved them all. When he killed the Mad King, he had saved their lives. So many innocent lives. That was worth breaking an oath, wasn't it? He'd thrown the child from the window to protect Cersei and their children. To protect House Lannister. Maybe it was wrong, but those he loved were worth far more to him than his honour.

Those he loved. His family. Not his house. Not those he was told to like. His lover and his children. His children. They were so far away from everyone that he could call them his own. He could love them. Love her, like a real father, not an uncle. At least for a little while. He could call his daughter his own. She was his princess. His daughter. His bastard.

He was going to tell her. She would understand. She was old enough. She was in love. That wasn't to say she understood love, or how powerful it was, but she felt it. She felt it for a Martell, something that was also, not forbidden exactly, but taboo at least.

He opened his mouth to speak, looking at her beautiful Lannister gold hair, just like her mother's. Anyone could see that she was a lion. There wasn't a bit of stag in her. Not in any of them.

"There's something I wanted to tell you," he began. "Something I should have told you long ago."

She was the only one of them she could tell. Joffrey was so unpredictable. He probably would have had him thrown in prison and cut off his head. And Tommen was so good, so just, that he would renounce the throne immediately, disgracing House Lannister and probably ending in his parents' public humiliation and murder.

Myrcella understood. She smiled, an innocently sweet smile.

"I know what you're trying to say," she said, standing up to clasp his hand. "I know."

How could she know? Was she happy, angry, disappointed? She didn't sound disappointed.

"I think a part of me always knew," she continued, burying her face in his muscular chest. He put his stump around her comfortingly, stroking her hair gently with his left hand.

"And I'm glad. I'm glad that you're my father,"

He liked that word. He liked being called it. It was better than Cersei panting his name as she climaxed, better than watching his niece and nephews come into the world. Because now he could be a father to his own children. He had been hiding it for so long. Carrying the burden of his secrets weighed heavily on him. He'd never realized it before.

But now, she knew. She accepted him for who he was. He could be a father to his daughter, if only for a few days, while they were far from home. Far from the politics of King's Landing.

He wondered if she knew what it meant. She didn't seem disappointed or disgusted at all. Perhaps she didn't realize that she was a bastard, born of incest. That she wasn't really a princess of the realm. Just how many people wanted her dead.

Maybe she did know all that. Maybe she was just proud to be a child born of love. Glad to have a living father, who didn't drink or whore. Maybe he was just proud that he had finally told her. That she finally knew for certain.

But he never got the chance to ask...

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 **A/N Sorry about the sad twist at the end, but it's Game of Thrones. It very rarely ends happily. I'd love a review. Please?**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N So, here's the alternate, somewhat happier, ending to my oneshot, as suggested in a couple of reviews. It works if you take everything in the previous chapter except the last line as true. It's a little confused at the start, but I think that works here.**

 **Disclaimer: Still not mine.**

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She nuzzled into his chest, inhaling his masculine scent, currently full of pride. She was glad to know the truth after so long. She was glad that King Robert wasn't her father. At least Jaime was a, mostly, good man, who actually loved her mother. Love was important in a relationship. It was important for people. They thrived on it. It was more vital that food or water. It gave them something to live for. Hope.

But maybe it wasn't such a good thing. The rumours alone had brought about a rift in society. She couldn't begin to imagine the devastation if everyone knew it was true. Her parents would be disgraced, most likely killed. Her brother Tommen would have to renounce the throne. She would most likely die as well. And who knows who would take the Iron Throne. Stannis, perhaps. He was Robert's last living family. Maybe there would be another war.

It made her a bastard. Neither Lannister, nor Baratheon. She was no-one. A Flowers or a Waters. She wasn't entirely sure how it worked. She wasn't a princess at all. But no-one could ever know.

Tristane. What would he think? Should she tell him? Probably not. He might break off their engagement and end the crown's alliance with Dorne. They would go to war over Oberyn Martell's death.

Surely Tristane wouldn't do that. He loved her. Not because she was a princess or a Baratheon or a Lannister. But because she was Myrcella. Perhaps he should know. She couldn't lie to him. If he knew, then they could help each-other through the difficult times ahead. Telling him this would be the ultimate sign of trust. It would certainly be a good start to their marriage.

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"Tristane," she murmured, audible only to her father. "What do I say to him?"

"This has to be our secret, Myrcella," Jaime said, suddenly worrying that he shouldn't have trusted her with the most important secret in the Seven Kingdoms. "No-one else can know."

If Tristane knew, then the alliance could break down, war could break out, Cersei and Tommen would die and House Lannister would be forever disgraced. No-one could know but him, Myrcella and Cersei.

"I can't lie to him," she replied, sensing her father's unease. Jaime didn't know Tristane as she did. He didn't trust him. But Myrcella did. More than anything, she trusted that he loved her.

"You must." he encouraged. "Think of what would happen if someone else found out. If he told someone. There would be a war. He would die. You would die. At worst case, your mother, brother and I would all die too. If you want him to be safe, then you cannot tell him."

She was too young to realize that love wasn't just about being honest and caring. It was about making every sacrifice to protect them. Even if it meant lying or risking your own life or honour or dignity. She was too young to know that being in love was very dangerous in this world.

Myrcella's face was red, her muscles strained from holding back tears. She was just learning the pains of love. He held her tighter, his hand combing through her elaborately curled hair.

"I have to tell him," she whimpered.

It dawned on Jaime that his daughter, having been tucked away at the bottom of the world for so long, hadn't learned to gamble. She had never learned to play the game of thrones. None of his children had.

She'd never learned how to risk the lives of the unimportant to protect the people she loved. And by now, she probably never would. Her personality had been shaped by the free culture of Dorne, not the harsh reality of the court of King's Landing. She would never have the rough edge that was required for a long and fulfilling life.

"It's all a risk," Jaime muttered. "When you play the Game of Thrones, you win or you die."

He repeated Cersei's words as he patted Myrcella's back. He knew the game. Not as well as his father or sister, but he knew the rules.

"You tell him if you want, but you'll be risking all our lives. I hope you trust him,"

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 **A/N Little cliff hanger at the end, but it's Game of Thrones. Did you expect it to be fully resolved and happy? If I get a positive response to this, I might continue this, but I have no immediate plans. So if you liked it and want me to continue, please review to tell me.**


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